


I can be your devil or your angel, baby

by hinatella



Series: yuuri!!! on fire (the superhero au) [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bad Flirting, Dirty Jokes, Everyone has superpowers, Humor, M/M, Rivalry, Swearing, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 22:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinatella/pseuds/hinatella
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki didn’t ask for any of this, and he’s starting to question all of his life choices that lead up to this cursed moment.





	

Coming into work today, Yuuri expected things to go normally. Well, as normally as things tend to go in this godforsaken organization.

He always starts his day exhausted after staying up extremely late the night before. Sometimes it’s due to mission calls that extend over night, and other times it’s because Netflix adds in full seasons of shows he’s been dying to see, like _Brooklyn 99_ , or _The Office_ , or _Galavant_. He constantly tells himself he’ll just watch one episode, or two, or three, four, five…

Yuuri only has himself to blame when his sleep-deprived body smacks right into the body of an unsuspecting person, and papers go soaring _everywhere_.

“Oh, my god!” Yuuri cries, eyes flying open. He drops to his knees and starts frantically pulling the sheets together again. “I’m so so so so _so_ —”

He stands up, papers crinkled and messy and folded up in his arms, and his face is flushed in embarrassment. “ _So_ sorry.”

The other person just stares at him, seemingly shocked speechless. Yuuri’s wearing his faux glasses right now, and that, combined with his sleep-hazy vision, makes it so that Yuuri can’t recognize the blob of a person in front of him. He squints, wondering if they’re new here. The gray hair—silver? Platinum?—isn’t recognizable.

“It’s...it’s alright?” they say, taking the papers back.

And that’s the end of that encounter. It isn’t until Yuuri is sitting down in the lounge room, two cups of coffee in his system, and a third mug in his hand, that he realizes he could’ve seen the other if he’d just taken off his glasses.

Frowning, he removes them and places them down on the table, then rubs the remaining tiredness from his eyes.

There’s noises coming from the other end of the large room. On the couch, Sara and JJ are playing video games, and by the sound of things, Sara is sorely kicking his ass in the one game she kicks everyone’s ass in: Smash. Yuuri shakes his head; JJ is a fool.

The chair beside him drags out, and a heavy body plops into it. “Hi, darling. You look _great_ this morning. You sound great, too.”

Yuuri turns, makes a face at Phichit’s sarcastic greeting. “Phichit, I love you, but please don’t do this to me so early in the morning. I’m so tired.”

His best friend laughs amicably. “Sorry. It’s only nine o’clock, Yuuri.”

“That’s basically dawn.”

“What were you even doing last night, hm?” Phichit raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Yuuri doesn’t answer, looking down at his mug of creamer-and-sugar filled coffee that’s gone cold. He squeezes the ceramic sides until his hands alight with fire, watches the liquid start bubbling, and steam rise from the lip of it again. Then he closes his eyes and clears his mind before it’s too late.

“A french musical at 3 a.m.?”

 _Oh, too late_.

“Honestly, Yuuri, you can’t keep doing that to yourself. You’ll start getting bags under your eyes. Your _bags_ will have bags. And _those_ will have bags. Soon, you’ll just have a mountain of bags and you’ll be able to open up a store and call it Yuuri’s Designer Eye Bags.”

Yuuri just takes a sip of his hot coffee.

“Do I need to move in again and be your personal go-the-fuck-to-sleep alarm?”

Yuuri sputters when he swallows the wrong way, and he waves his hands vehemently in the air. “No! I’m not a kid!” Phichit was a great roommate, sure, and of course he only cared for Yuuri’s well-being because Yuuri was awful at doing that himself. But he really didn’t need a second pseudo-mom again. Even if he technically rested better when Phichit was there.

Phichit drops the subject and leans his folded arms against the table, whispering low and conspiratorially. “So, we have a fresh face joining the organization today.”

“Really?” Yuuri asks, mildly interested.

“Yeah, and some people have already seen him around the place. He’s older apparently, so most likely not a mentee.”

Yuuri hums pensively. “I might’ve run into him actually…” _Literally_.

“You did?!” Phichit says excitedly, eyes sparkling. “What does he look like? How old does he look? Is he nice?”

“Uh…” Yuuri answers, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes. “I...don’t remember. Everything was blurry and I just wanted caffeine.”

“What do you _mean_ everything was blurry!”

“I’m _really_ tired.”

Phichit sighs and leans back in his chair. “I’ve been trying to run into him all morning so I can get a peek at his mind, but he’s like, Scarlet Mask level elusive.”

“Isn’t it rude to read people’s minds without them knowing about it?”

“Not if they don’t catch you,” Phichit grins.

Yuuri rolls his eyes to the ceiling and drinks the rest of his delightfully warm coffee.

✂

It’s unusually quiet this morning, which is odd. There’s always something loud, and disruptive, and _explosive_ going on, which never leaves a dull moment in the organization. It could be considered a blessing, the fact that Yuuri’s guaranteed never to be bored with his job, but the ever-fleeting peace and quiet he craves is hard to come by.

But now.

Now, everything is quiet. _Too_ quiet. There’s no terrified screaming coming from the halls, paired with heavy footsteps as Yuri Plisetsky chases some poor mentee down. There’s no rambunctious laughter as people clutch their stomachs at a dirty joke Chris shares. There isn’t even the periodic sound of windows breaking while a project from the Research and Development Lab goes horribly, terribly wrong.

Yuuri should cherish this rare opportunity, grasp it in his arms while he uses it as a soft companion to sleep on the couch with. But it just makes him extremely uneasy, like there’s no way it’ll last, like this is a dark omen hanging over his head, a harbinger that things can, and will, go wrong.

And of course, as though he’d suddenly possessed the power of precognition, Murphy’s Law personified comes bursting through the lounge door at 11:30a.m.

“Phichit! Yuuri! Have you heard?” Chris says frantically, wided-eyed and sweating. He’s currently in his superhero costume, with the big _D_ on the front that Yuuri hates so, _so_ much. He must’ve just come back from a mission.

Phichit is the first to snap his head in Chris’s direction, like he’s thirsty for gossip on this bland morning. (He is.) “Heard what?”

Chris doesn’t stop his brisk walk, only gestures for them to follow him as he makes for the couch. Yuuri and Phichit sit on either side of him while the two-toned blond picks up the remote and turns on the Channel 7 news station.

“ —on has successfully put the villain behind bars. Though the criminal had something interesting to say before being dragged away by local police.”

The image of the news anchor cuts to a very mediocre villain, face-paint smeared over their faces to mask their identity. A cloaked Chris with silvery-metallic skin has the villain’s arms pinned behind their back. They struggle in Chris’s superhuman grasp, and they’re yelling.

_“This won’t be the last ya see of me! My legacy won’t die like Flash Freeze! Ow, can ya not pull on my arm like that ya fu—”_

A strategic cut back to the anchors.

“What do you think, Jack? Is this masked marauder just spouting nonsense? Or is there some truth behind their words?”

“Well, Susan, no one knows the answer to that question. One thing’s for sure, with that loud voice this surely won’t be the last we _hear_ of him, hahaha!”

“Oh ho, _Jack_.”

Phichit makes a grossed-out face and turns the volume down to mute the sound of lame news anchors’ banter. Yuuri silently thanks him.

“Wait,” Phichit says, as the banter filters out and the news sinks in. “Is Flash Freeze really gone?”

“He hasn’t turned up in three weeks, so…” Chris places a hand on his chin.

“Gone as in _disappeared_ ?” Yuuri’s eyebrows furrow together, incredulous. He’s a _villain_ sure, and the villain who’s been a pain in Yuuri’s ass for at least three months with ridiculous flirting attempts and even more ridiculous crimes (that Yuuri was starting to expect were just reasons to get his attention). But that doesn't dismiss the fact that for every ridiculous crime, Flash Freeze had committed ten dangerous ones. It doesn't dismiss the fact that he was insanely strong, and annoyingly quick witted, and stupidly handsome, and everything about him made Yuuri _mad_ , and—

Maybe Flash Freeze being gone isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Phichit snorts. “You have an awful habit of letting your mind guards slip when you’re thinking about your crushes, Yuuri.”

His face suddenly _burns_. “Phichit, _don’t_. He’s not a crush he’s literally _evil_ —”

“What was that you said a month ago?” Chris interjects, cheeky grin curling his lips. He looks ready to swallow Yuuri whole and take his secrets with him. “‘Flash Freeze may be a thorn in my ass but he could be a thorn in my _ass_.’”

The couch would be a pile of ash on the floor if it weren’t made of nonflammable material, because Yuuri is absolutely blazing. Steam from the ears, campfire-warmth on his face, the whole thing. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You were drunk.”

“I say dumb things when I’m drunk!”

“You’re more truthful when you’re drunk,” Phichit says. Yuuri doesn’t admit that that’s true.

“A-anyway!” He stammers, ready to get rid of this awful topic. Or ready to let it pull him under a pile of his regrets until they drown him. Whichever happens first. “Do you guys think he’s gone for real? That can’t be right…”

“Maybe he’s up to something.” Phichit gasps. “Maybe the villains are putting together some big, elaborate plan!”

“There’s no way,” Chris adds in. “They hardly work in groups of two, let alone together.”

Phichit shrugs, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”

The chime of the overhead announcement system sounds, and a voice projects through the entire building. “Cinderos, please report to Mr. Feltsman’s office. Again, Cinderos, please report to Mr. Feltsman’s office.”

Yuuri tilts his head, confused.

“What did you do?” Chris asks him.

He shakes his head because he doesn’t know. The head of the organization rarely calls the heroes to his office, and when he does, it’s almost never to relay good news and hand over a congratulatory cupcake.

Yuuri stands, wipes his already nervous hands against his jeans.

Phichit gives him a thumbs up. “Good luck, Yuuri. Don’t die.”

“I’ll try not to.” 

✂

On the elevator ride up to the third floor, Yuuri searches the files of his mind with frantic fingers for anything, _anything_ , he could’ve done to get sent to the head’s office. But nothing comes to mind. And that’s makes the walk to his office that much more petrifying.

He wipes the sweat from his clammy hands on his shirt before twisting the knob and opening the door.

Two things he doesn’t expect greet him at the door:

One very mellow Yakov Feltsman seated at his mahogany desk, hands folded in front of him, and no veins protruding from his temple.

And one very unfamiliar stranger sitting in one of the plush black chairs on the other side of that desk, staring at Yuuri like he’s a star, spotlights on him.

“Heh-llo?” Yuuri greets, disjointed and unsure, and his hands start sweating all over again.

“Good morning, Yuuri. Please take a seat,” Yakov says, gesturing to the empty chair.

Yuuri hardly has time to sink right into the Cushions of Apprehension™ when the stranger turns to him, wide-eyed and smiling.

“ _Yuu_ ri!” The silver-haired stranger exclaims in a drawl like he’s taste-testing each consonant and vowel on his tongue. “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

He is more than a little perplexed, and uncomfortable, and he squirms in his seat. “Have we met before?”

“Plenty of times, but this may as well be our first real meeting.” Silver-haired stranger winks, _winks_ , and Yuuri gets this annoying little inkling that that voice and those actions are strangely familiar.

Yuuri looks to Yakov for answers.

“This is Victor Nikiforov.”

He blinks slowly. Okay?

“But you know him better as Flash Freeze.”

Yuuri isn’t quite sure what sets him off. Maybe it’s the years of training that allows him to jump into action at any first sign of danger, or maybe it’s the fact that that name is like electricity lining the chair and water against his ass, because Yuuri’s never leaped so far out of a seat in his _life_.

“ _Excuse me?!_ ”

This has to be some sort of sick joke. A halloween prank. When’s halloween again? It’s April right now, _fuck_ —

“This is no joke, Yuuri. Victor Nikiforov is Flash Freeze,” Yakov says with all the calm in the world, calm Yuuri wished he had right now, because his heart is beating _so hard_ from the adrenaline that’s been shot straight into his veins.

“You can’t be serious!” Without thinking, Yuuri puts two fists in front of him and manifests fire from his hands. His eyes glow with the surge of power, and the wood-filled office is transformed into the reds and oranges and greens and blues of infrared. The only warm colors in the room are the two seated here, and Victor— _Flash Freeze_ —is red with fear. _Good_.

“Is this an ambush? Mr. Feltsman, are you being mind controlled right now? Blink three times if you can hear me—”

“Please calm down, Yuuri. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Yuuri waits a beat before he waves his hands to put out the fire, and he blinks a few times to return his human vision.

Vic— ** _Flash Freeze_** —visibly releases the tension in his shoulders. “Wow! Scary!”

Yuuri shoots him a look made of venom before sitting down again, crowding himself in one corner of the chair to stay as far away from Flash Freeze as humanly possible. “What the hell is going on?”

“Mr. Nikiforov would like to denounce his villainy to fight alongside the heroes of our organization.”

“Huh?” Yuuri eloquently states, dumbfounded.

“Seeing as you’re more acquainted with him than the other heroes—due to your assigned missions—I’d like you to keep a close eye on him for a couple of weeks and show him around the place until he learns the ropes.”

“What?”

“It’s only for a few weeks.”

“But?”

“Will you do it, Yuuri?”

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t trust him and I think this is an awful idea.”

“I’ve taken necessary measures to insure that Mr. Nikiforov will not disclose classified organization files to outside intelligence.”

“Like what?”

“He will be placed under constant surveillance until I feel he can be trusted.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Yes, hi.” Flash Freeze says. Yuuri and Yakov turn to look at him. He waves. “I’m still here and I can hear everything you’re saying.”

Yuuri tries really hard not to make a face filled with distaste, but it’s really, _really_ difficult around _him_. “Is this for real?”

Flash Freeze leans against the armrest closest to Yuuri, and Yuuri leans away. “As real as I’m sitting here, Cinderella.”

Oh, my _god_.

“Mr. Feltsman, I implore you to please, _pleasefortheloveofgod_ , reconsider.”

Yakov is pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep his cool and collected demeanor. “As much as I understand your position in this matter, there’s reasons for me to believe that this will be a good opportunity for both the organization and Mr. Nikiforov himself.”

He sighs, sinks deep into the plush cushions, _hopes_ it’ll devour him alive.

“Yakov, stop with this, ‘Mr. Nikiforov’ business. Call me the way you used to!” Flash Freeze demands.

_Used to?_

Yakov grimaces. “This is a professional environment. I will do no such thing.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, defeated, because it seems like Yakov won’t be changing his mind anytime soon. “What is it you want me to do again?”

“Show him around, give him a tour, accompany him on a few missions. Think of this like a mentor program, only this one is short and merely lasts one to two weeks,” he explains.

“How long does a regular mentor program last?” Flash Freeze asks.

“Three to six months, depending on how fast of a learner the mentee is.”

Flash Freeze slides low in his chair with a hand dramatically thrown over his forehead. “ _Oh_ , I’m suddenly very bad at using my powers. I think I’d like to sign up for that program.”

They stare at him with raised eyebrows and matching unimpressed looks.

“No? Fine.” He sits up again.

“...Right. Before Nikiforov—”

“Nikiforov! An upgrade!”

“ _Before Nikiforov_ goes on missions, we will have to work on rebranding, because having his villain name in our files would tarnish this organization’s reputation.”

“Already covered!” Flash Freeze claps his hands together. “I’ve got a new name in mind and a new suit being fashioned by my hostage—”

“Holy fucking shit you can’t be serious,” Yuuri whispers in one breath.

“It was a joke,” Flash Freeze laughs. “I thought you were always so wound up on your missions because of the spandex being too tight, but wow! You’re actually like this off duty too! Have you ever heard of a little thing called relaxation?”

Yuuri wishes, _wishes_ , he had the power to telepathically transfer his thoughts to Yakov’s mind so he can silently convey to him just how much he wants to _murder Victor Nikiforov._

 _Flash Freeze._  

✂

Yakov tells Yuuri he won’t have any missions for the day so he has time to show Flash Freeze around. Yuuri doesn’t want to do it, doesn’t want anything to do with this supposedly ex-villain, but he has already agreed to it.

“This is the Research and Development Department,” Yuuri explains, walking into the expansive room when the automatic doors slide open. “It’s where our in-house geniuses come up with new technologies to aid in our missions, _don’t touch that_.”

Flash Freeze pulls his hands away from a machine that Yuuri doesn’t know the purpose of, and he smiles. “Sorry! Everything is just amazing here! So pristine and high-tech. To be expected from one of the most prestigious hero organizations in the country.”

“Is that why you came here?”

“Well, reason number two.”

“What’s reason number one?” Flash Freeze does that dumb, sly grin that Yuuri _hates hates hates_. “Forget I asked.”

He, thankfully, obliges him and reigns the topic back in. “Is there a weapons department? I’ve heard it’s amazing here, too.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes. “...Yes. It’s open to all full-fledged heroes who require them. You’re not a hero, though.”

“Not _yet_.”

“Hm…”

“Don’t you trust me? Hm, _Cinderos_?”

Yuuri is so ashamed to admit that the way Flash Freeze rolls the ‘r’ in his hero name feels like ice against his spine. If he’s asked, he’ll blame the shivers on the low temperature in the building.

“Three weeks ago you partnered with Scarlet Mask to rob a server facility and now you’re just _here_? And you expect me to _trust you_?”

Flash Freeze’s face falls, actually, truly, with none of his flippant, carefree countenance in sight. “Listen, Yuuri, I know this is hard to believe. And I understand that I’m probably not on your good side right now.” _Understatement of the century_ , Yuuri thinks. “But I’m genuinely willing to try very hard to gain your respect.”

Yuuri furrows his eyebrows. He’s not sure what to say.

“Hell, I’d let you kick me in the dick if it meant you’d stop being so hostile towards me.”

Yuuri actually considers it.

“You aren’t actually considering it, are you?” Flash Freeze winces.

“No. But, god, would I like to.” Yuuri sighs wistfully and gestures for him to follow as he walks out the door and into the hallway.

“Thanks for having mercy.”

“Mhm.”

They go down to the the first floor, where most of the heroes are. Yuuri dreads having to be the one to tell everyone that he’s showing _Flash Freeze_ around the facilities.

“Can you just call me Victor? I don’t go by that name anymore,” Flash Freeze says.

Did Yuuri say that out loud?

“Sorry....Victor,” Yuuri says slowly, and it feels weird, _so weird_ , like a discordant mix of slime and salt and sugar against his taste buds.

Flash Free—Victor smiles, and Yuuri noticed that it’s almost comically heart-shaped. Cute and pure… “My name sounds lovely coming from you.”

He frowns, pretends the small blush on his cheeks isn’t there. Very un-cute.

“This is the training room,” Yuuri says as they enter another large room filled with all kinds of exercise machines and fancy, overpriced gadgets. “It’s two stories high, so you can enter from the second floor. The mentees and trainees usually use this, but you’re welcome to as well.”

“Oooh,” Victor responds in awe.

“This is the costuming department. If your costume suffers from tears or burns or whatever-it-is on missions, you can get them repaired here. You can also put in requests for a new design entirely, though that’s only common among mentees who’re being graduated to Heroes in Training.”

“Ahhh.”

“And this—this is very important. It’s the Hero’s Octogonal Leakproof Exit,” Yuuri states matter-of-factly, in the octagon-shaped room with what appears to be a force field overhead.

“The…” Victor’s eyebrows knit together. “The what?”

“The Hero’s Octogonal Leakproof Exit. Mr. Feltsman had it made after heroes destroyed the front entrance one too many times while going out on missions.” Yuuri pauses to think with the tilt of his head. “It’s been wrecked...twelve times since I’ve been here?”

“That...” Victor starts.

“Nothing can come in, which is why it’s leak-proof. But we can come out.”

“That spells hole…” he finishes.

“Yes.”

“You guys come out of a hole.”

“Yeah…”

“Who thought of that ridiculous acronym?”

“The Research and Development team thought it was clever.” Yuuri closes his eyes and shakes his head because he understands how awful it is. “But,” he opens his eyes again. “This is where you go to suit up and leave. I cannot stress how important this exit is—Mr. Feltsman will have your head if the entrance is destroyed one more time.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Okay, that’s most of the tour done. The last place is the one Yuuri is simultaneously looking forward to and dreading. Because it’s nearing 1p.m. and he’s hungry, and the lounge has food.

But it attracts the heroes like cats to catnip, and he’d rather not run into anyone right now. Yuuri silently prays that the room will be empty. Maybe he’ll be lucky. This whole day hasn’t been particularly nice to him.

But that hasn’t changed at all, because five people are in there right now.

“Fuck,” Yuuri says out loud. Victor probably hears that. Yuuri doesn’t care.

He ducks behind Victor, and the ex-villain attempts to look at him from over his shoulder.

“Maybe if we leave now we won’t be noticed—”

“Yuuri!” Phichit—an angel, honestly, Yuuri loves him, but also _screw Phichit—_ calls from across the room. “Oh? Who’s this? The new guy?”

All eyes are on them. Yuuri is sweating.

Everyone crowds to the center of the room, all except for Yuri Plisetsky, who uses the extra couch space to his advantage and lays the full length of his body on it. He nonchalantly eats a chocolate bar, not even bothering to look this way.

“Hello there,” Chris says with a smirk and a wave of his hand. He somehow manages to make the simple gesture look lewd.

Yuuri wants to say, _stop, you’ll gross him out_ , but Victor plays along like this is natural to him. “Hello to you, too.”

“Oh, I like him!”

Phichit is focused right now, staring right at the new arrival with sharp, cat-eyeliner eyes. Definitely trying to dig into Victor’s mind. But he seems a little frustrated. Victor’s mind guard must be strong.

“What’s your name, tough guy?” Sara asks, looking him up and down.

He bows. “Victor Nikiforov at your service.”

The sudden sound of choking from the couch. A blond jumping up onto the cushions. The point of a finger, and a shriek of _“What?!”_

All eyes turn to Yuri P., including the shocked eyes of Victor. But it isn’t the same brand of confused-shock everyone else is wearing. No, it’s _recognition-shock_.

“Yura!”

“What the _fuck_ is he doing here?”

“Uh, do you know each other?” JJ asks what everyone is thinking.

Though Phichit gasps when he looks at Yuri P.  like he knows something everyone else doesn’t. “No way…”

“He’s my fucking _older brother_ ,” Yuri P. says.

Phichit gasps again, _horrified_ , and turns wide eyes on Victor. “ _No way_.”

“Phichit?” Chris touches his shoulder in concern.

All at once, the room freezes, and everyone holds their breaths, because Phichit uses his telekinesis to drag Yuri P.’s obscene amounts of knives from his pockets and turns them all on Victor.

“Holy _sh_ —”

“What _are_ you doing here?” Phichit nearly _growls_ it. One knife veers centimeters away from Victor’s nose.

“Nice to meet you too, Neuroseeker.”

The other three look confused beyond belief, Phichit is having a staring contest with Victor, and Yuri P. is frantically searching himself to make sure none of his knives scratched his clothes, so Yuuri guesses he’ll have to explain.

“This is...This is Flash Freeze.”

“Flash— _What_?”

“Yuuri,” Phichit says, never taking his eyes away from Victor. “Is this some sort of trap? Is Mr. Feltsman okay? Blink three times if you aren’t being mind controlled right now—”

“Phichit, I’m fine, I swear,” he reassures. Just to prove it, Yuuri purposely lets his mind guards down to let Phichit probe at his thoughts and memories from the last hour. “Please return Yuri P.’s knives.”

Phichit seems satisfied with that, and allows the points of the knives to turn downwards and float back in a single file to the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Thanks,” Yuri P. mumbles.

“Did Mr. Feltsman seriously think this was a good idea?” Phichit questions.

“I know! That’s what I said!”

“Wait, so is he like, joining us now?” JJ asks.

“I guess so?” Sara answers, unsure.

“I have to look after him for a couple of weeks like some goddamn _babysitter_.”

“Are you sure he won’t take advantage of you?” Chris questions.

“Over my dead body. I can take care of himself, but thanks for the concern.”

“Seriously? I’m right here. I can hear all of you,” Victor interrupts.

All eyes turn to him, as though they’d genuinely forgotten the subject of their conversation was right there. Yuri P. decides to join them in looking at Victor too, like some sort of spectacle at a museum.

“You don’t belong here, fucker. Go back to the hole you crawled from,” Yuri P. amicably tells him.

“Wow, Yura, you’re a lot more hostile than I remember. What happened to the bright eyed boy I remember my baby brother being?”

Yuri P. scowls and says through clenched teeth, “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Baby? Yura?”

“Don’t even talk to me! Your voice is irritating.” He pushes past everyone and storms out of the room, feet splashing against rain puddles from the proverbial cloud over his head.

“I’d say he’s like that with everyone and not to mind him, but honestly I feel the same right about now,” Yuuri says. Everyone nods in agreement.

“Won’t you all give me a chance? What happened to that? Second chances? Innocent until proven guilty?”

Yuuri folds his arms and calls on SIB, the organization’s information bank, and a high-tech teal screen materializes in front of him. “SIB, search records for _Flash Freeze._ ”

The system pulls up pictures of Victor in his costume, and lines and lines and lines of text; a generic, robotic, female voice instantly answers. “Flash Freeze. Real name, classified. Height, one-hundred and eighty centimeters. Hair, silver. Eyes, blue. He is a level four villain on the five star system with the power to conjure ice, and he uses this as a form of transportation to make up for the lack of flight abilities. Number of total known crimes committed, seventy-two. Flash Freeze has—”

“Thank you, SIB,” Yuuri cuts in, pointing judging eyes at Victor. “That will be all.”

The screen dematerializes. “What was that about innocent until proven guilty?”

“Tabula rosa? Clean slate?” Victor tries again, a high-pitched affliction to his voice now, as he attempts to somehow hop onto their good sides.

Chris walks up to him, and everyone holds their breaths, expecting him to do something terrible. But he does something _worse_.

He puts an arm around Victor’s shoulders.

“I say we give him a chance. If Mr. Feltsman wants to, why shouldn’t we? Perhaps there’s some good in him after all.”

Everyone belatedly nods their heads.

“...Yeah, sure,” JJ says. “No villain just walks in here with the desire to be a hero if they _seriously_ didn’t want to change, right?”

Sara shrugs her shoulders in defeat. “Eh, can’t be that bad.”

Phichit takes a little longer to concede, but when he does, he puts on a big smile that Yuuri suspects is fake (but he doesn’t call his friend out on it). “Welcome to Superheroes United as Champions of the Country, Fla—Victor!”

“Welcome!” Everyone choruses with cheers and applause.

“Does this mean we get to throw a party like we do whenever we add someone to the SUCC team?” Sara says excitedly.

“Nah, he isn’t a full-fledged hero yet. But _soon_.” Phichit rubs his hands like he’s already planning the celebration. Knowing him, he most definitely is.

Yuuri can do nothing right now but forlornly sigh as he comes to the slow, languid realization that this is his life now. This is what he’ll have to deal with now. And he wants absolutely none of it.

“My personal hell,” Yuuri mutters sadly into his hands.

Victor slings an arm around his shoulders, and Yuuri snaps his head up to look him in his blue eyes. SIB was heavily under-describing them. They are very, _very,_ _vividly_ blue.

“I can be your devil or your angel, baby.”

Yuuri shuts his eyes, tells himself that just this once, _just this once_. It’ll be okay if he listens to his whims _just this once_. 

✂

Peace and quiet.

The couch is really soft and really comfortable. Phichit lets Yuuri rest his head in his lap while he watches television and Yuuri scrolls through news sites on his phone while sipping from an apple juice box.

Yuri P. enters the room once again and stops in his tracks.

Looks down at the floor.

Up at the couch.

“What the hell happened here?”

Victor is on the ground clutching his crotch for dear life while Chris rubs his back to try and sooth him through the pain. Sara and JJ are nowhere to be found.

Yuuri smirks. “He said I could.”

From the ground, Victor wheezes. _“It was worth it."_

 

✦

**Author's Note:**

> so i watched deadpool with my qp a month ago and this au came to mind and i've never been the same since.
> 
> i plan on making this a series of oneshots so if you're interesting in reading more, don't worry! i have 300 ideas that i plan on writing in the future.
> 
> thank you to haley (@viictuuris) and qq (@semi8a) for beta-reading for me and helping me think up ideas and lame jokes for this. feel free to hmu on twitter (@hinatella) to yell about victuuri with me.
> 
> thank you for reading and be on the look out for more to come!!


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